The Life of Australia
by BeckysArmy
Summary: Short accounts of Australia's everyday life
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: we do not own Axis Powers Hetalia or any of the characters.

Australia studied the bottom of his mug. Turning his attention to the CoffeeMate, he glared at the little blinking light, willing it to make his coffee faster. He watched as his life source dripped into the pot, ever so slowly. He narrowed his eyes, something was off. He shifted his piercing glare to the toaster, which had just started to smoke profusely. A small dinging noise emitted from the cursed chrome machine and two pieces of charcoal popped through the slots. He looked forlornly at his empty plate.

"F*ck."

***

_Blink. Blink………………Blink. _

This was starting to irritate Australia.

_Blink. _

Currently, there were eighty six messages on his answering machine, all from England.

"Hello this is England calling for the British Commonwealth of Australia. Once again, I would like to inquire about the whereabouts of my trainers. I seem to have misplaced them. They are blue, and they have my name on the inside."

"Hello this is England calling for the British Commonwealth of Australia…again. I forgot the mention that the name was written in black marker in cursive if that helps. Call me immediately if you have any information."

"Hello this is England calling for the British Commonwealth of Australia…again. It has been brought to my attention that other countries seem to find it amusing to pilfer my personal belongings. This is childish and immature *sniff* If you tell me where my shoes are, I promise not to punish you…or France."

"Seriously Australia, this is not amusing! I am very disappointed in you."

_Blink _

Australia sniggered as he looked over at his cat's new bed. England always had big feet.

***

She was outside again. Outside, in her garden, picking flowers, and singing softly to herself. Her long lustrous hair floated gently around her. She was simply radiant. Feeling distinctly like a stalker, Australia peered at her through his curtains, noting in passing that he needed to replace them. …The curtains, not her. Nothing could replace her, not even new curtains.

Ever since she moved in to the house next door, Australia had made an unhealthy habit of watching her. How could he not? She was so beautiful, and he was so in love.

New Zealand

Australia stared at her dreamily, a love struck expression spreading across his face. He was still working up the courage to go talk to her. Until that day, watching satisfied him. Unfortunately, she closed her blinds at night before changing.

Damnit.

***

Lather, Rinse, Repeat.

Australia was in the shower, rinsing away the grime he accumulated throughout the day. As most, he used this serene shower time to reminisce about his past…okay maybe only he did that.

When he was younger, he used to live in England's house. Australia had struggled endlessly to earn his eldest brother's love and attention. His efforts, however, were in vain. England was always preoccupied with America, who had been going through a rebellious stage.

It started with little things. Australia would steal bags of tea, put Nair in England's shampoo bottle, or eat all of Ireland's potato salad. When this failed to elicit a response from his eldest brother, Australia turned to more drastic measures. He got into fistfights, he defaced England's property, he killed the neighbor's cat. Soon, it became about more than winning England's attention, it became a way of life.

Australia wondered vaguely what he had done with his old leather jacket.

***

"You know Australia," Taz said looking up from his mango smoothie, "that New Zealand is _fine._"

Australia felt unnecessary anger flare up inside of him. He could handle Taz randomly appearing on his front lawn. He could handle Taz helping himself to whatever happened to be in his fridge. He could even handle how Taz constantly squeaked his chair, although frankly that was getting on his nerves. _Squeak Squeak _He could not, however, handle any remarks from Taz about his beloved, perhaps because Taz had yet to hit puberty.

"Australia," said Taz, interrupting his angry train of thought, "Why are you turning so red?" Australia glanced at his reflection in the giant stainless steel decorative boomerang hanging above his mantle.

"Taz," said Australia, hoping to draw conversation away from New Zealand, "it's because I have tape worms"

"Oh," muttered Taz, not entirely sure what a tape worm was.

They went back to drinking their smoothies in an awkward silence.

_Squeak_

***

Australia opened the door. Two brown eyes stared back at him. The mail had arrived. Australia caught the thick wad of papers thrown at him and watched as the courier hopped purposefully into the distance. Damn Kangaroos had no respect.

"Bill, bill, court summons for Grandpa, bill, junk mail…"

Australia gaped at the pink envelope in his hand. His name was neatly written on the front in cursive. The word "frilly" came to mind. Dropping the rest of the mail at the foot of the stairs, he raced up to his room, dearly hoping that the letter was from his beloved.

Australia opened the envelope with what could be described as a religious reverence. The paper inside smelled faintly of coconut. His heart fell instantly, New Zealand always smelled like kiwis. He knew, he had been in her house when she wasn't there….not that he was being creepy or anything.

_Dear Australia, _

_I have admired you from afar for quite some time (about two weeks), and I found that I can no longer hide my feelings…._

He skimmed to the bottom of the letter, his eyes picking out phrases such as _obsession, love, forever, future children's names. _

_Love,_

_Madagascar_

Australia was suddenly overcome by an emotion he could not describe. Love? Hate? No, paranoia. He slowly turned to peer out of his window. There in the distance, a girl waved enthusiastically at him. Australia sunk back into the shadows of his room and resolved to inventory his undergarments from then on.

***

"G'day New Zealand" Australia said to his smiling reflection in his grandfather's giant stainless steel decorative boomerang. He frowned, he sounded too stereotypical.

"Top of the morning to ya New Zealand" _Too Irish_

"Sup New Zealand" _Too 'Gangstah' American….damn posers_.

"Hi" _Good._

"I love you!" _Creepy._

"I've always loved you." _Creepier. Try and compliment her._

"Nice boobs you have today." _What the hell is wrong with me?_

"I love your shoes." _Gay._

"Nice dress." _Good. Plain, simple, not stalker-esque._ _Okay now try and act cool._

Australia brushed back his hair in an attempt to be suave. He failed horribly.

Australia stuck his hands in his pockets to see if that would also appear cool and collected. It didn't.

Australia turned sideways and nonchalantly glanced over his shoulder. Bad.

And then Australia saw a reflection of something so disturbing that he could not properly express it in words. He snapped his eyes shut.

"Grandpa," he said through clenched teeth, "Go put on clothes."

***

There was no television in Australia's house. There was a spot for the television, even a gadget, and if one looked closely enough, one would see that the wall was discolored where the television would be. Australia was not really sure why, but sometimes he would sit on the ancient floral couch and stare vacantly at the discolored spot on the wall.

This was one of those times. Australia was sitting, wondering about the nutritional value of crocodile jerky, when a strange sense of foreboding came over him. Out of the five most poisonous snakes in existence, Australia's house was home to three. He was not exactly sure if his grandpa kept them in their cages. Australia muttered a curse as he looked down at his feet.

He decided now would be a lovely time for a walk.


	2. Chapter 2

_***_

_Stepheno tenderly caressed the clammy forehead of his dying lover._

"_Priscilla," he breathed softly, "I need you to know that I love you. I will never love any other as I have loved you." He pressed his ruddy face into the nape of her neck, gently kissing her pale skin._

"_Stepheno," she whispered, overwhelmed with intense emotion, "you must find the will to live on without me. Farewell my sweet prince." Priscilla leaned back as she was finally overcome._

"_Farewell my nymph," Stepheno said tearfully. He began to weep, covering Priscilla's lifeless face with his bitter tears. He vowed to never forget her, his last kiss of the passion fruit._

Tears welled up in Australia's eyes as he finished the final chapter. Found at a garage sale for fifteen cents, this harlequin romance novel, Kiss of the Passion Fruit, had occupied his waking hours for the past week. He slowly put the book down and uncurled himself from his fetal position. He groped frantically for his box of scented tissues, knocking over his empty carton of chocolate vanilla cookie dough swirl ice cream. He looked at himself in the mirror, and was mildly disgusted by what he saw. Puffy eyes, tears running down his face, mucus on his upper lip; Australia was not even entirely sure he had shaved in the last few days. He quickly resolved to shower.

The doorbell rang.

"Australia!" Grandpa yelled obnoxiously, "some bitch is at the door. You better be sleeping with her, you damn fruitcake!"

_Madagascar! _At first, Australia was embarrassed that someone would see him in this fruitcake-y state, but then he realized that Madagascar could potentially become less attracted to him. Brightening at this thought, he didn't even bother to wipe away the waterfall of mucus cascading from his nostrils.

New Zealand's smiling face greeted him as he opened the front door. Australia hastily wiped at his upper lip with his pajama sleeve.

"Hiya neighbor!" New Zealand chirped.

"Nice…um…dress…" Australia began nervously.

"I came here because my pet rock, Jemaine, is rather picky with what he eats, and today he would like some emu jerky. I searched my cabinets, but apparently we ate all of it weeks ago." She smiled expectantly. Not knowing what to do, Australia awkwardly shuffled to the kitchen, retrieved the requested jerky, and returned to the patient New Zealand, who was casually chatting with the very hungry Jemaine. She stopped talking abruptly when she noticed the book Australia was unknowingly still holding in his left hand.

"Oh!" New Zealand exclaimed, recognizing the novel, "Australia, I had no idea you were gay!"

"Um…no, actually," Australia began, but New Zealand cut him off.

"We should start a book club or something! That would be so much fun! Have you read the sequel? Oh my god, now I'm excited. I have to go find my copy, shush Jemaine, See you later Australia!" New Zealand immediately turned her heels, and skipped merrily away. It was only until she had completely disappeared did Australia realize that he was still holding the emu jerky in his rather sweaty hand. He stood in the doorway in a daze, staring alternatively into the distance where New Zealand had disappeared, and the jerky in his hand. He would have been content to stare into the distance for quite some time, but a noise behind him forced him out of his reverie. Grandpa had decided to cackle evilly at Australia's lack of testosterone; he had seen the whole thing.

Grandpa: 613 Australia: 0

***

"Australia," said Grandpa one morning, "go fix the roof." Australia looked up from his bowl of cereal.

"It's not so bad," Australia remarked, raising his eyes to the big gaping hole in the ceiling above the breakfast table. A shadow passed over the opening, and a white clump fell into Australia's corn flakes.

Grandpa laughed. "The ladder's in the garage next to my motorcycle." Australia rose from the table without further argument.

Once on the roof, Australia grudgingly set to work. The blazing sun viciously attacked his bare back as he toiled. Australia's mind wandered as he worked at his task.

Taz was quietly sitting beneath a coconut tree. Shading his eyes, he looked up and saw the fruit, dangling there, taunting him. Feeling dejected and famished, he looked away, and his eye caught a metallic glint in the distance. It was a ladder, there on the side of Australia's house. No one would mind if he borrowed it for a while.

Australia sat back, proudly admiring his handy work. It wasn't the greatest, he could admit, but at least his breakfast would no longer be subject to rain or other such falling objects. The plus side was that he had made a new hole over his grandfather's bedroom…crotchety old man.

Smiling, Australia made his way to the edge of the roof. He knelt down and felt along the side of the house for his ladder. His fingers closed around air. Peering over the edge, he tried to judge the distance to the ground. A loud crashing sound rang out behind him. The breakfast table was littered with pieces of roof for weeks afterward.


	3. Chapter 3

AUTHOR'S NOTE: hey guys! Brigadier General here. I just wanted to clarify the tunes of the following songs since some of them are kind of obscure. Here they are in order; "Hey There Delilah" (Plain White T's), "If you're into it" (Flight of the Conchords), "Rebecca" (South Park), and "We Go Together" (Greece). And if you don't get the last one on your own, you are beyond help. Also, the middle section gets really into obscure Australian Pop Culture. You might want to look up The Magic Pudding.

The Lieutenant General would like to let everyone know that she is extremely proud of that last line. She would also advise against searching for the Magic Pudding, because it reminds her of the side effects caused by acid. Lot's of tripping, not all the pretty colors.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Hey there New Zealand

What's it like in Auckland City

I'm out here shoveling dingo shit

Tonight you look so pretty

Yes you do

Dingo shit smells much more than you

I swear it's true"

_Wait…I don't think she'll like being compared to dingo shit. Let's try again…_

"New Zealand is so great

She really is first rate

Wanna take her on a date

And then up to my bedroom!"

_Er…lets not be so obvious…crap!_

Australia swore as he stepped in a rather fresh pile of dingo excrement. He was just getting the hang of it too.

"Everywhere I go I'm thinking of you, New Zealand

I don't know what to do, New Zealand

I really do enjoy meeting you at your book club

Even if it means you think I'm gay

But I'm not a homosexual, New Zealand

I think that you should sleep with me, New Zealand

New Zealand, I'm not a homosexual, I'm not gaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyy"

_Ugh I think the dingo fumes are getting to my head_

"We go together like a vegemite sandwich and a bucket of shellfish

Together forever like Tom Cruise and that chick Nicole Kidman

Chang Chang…."

Australia's eyelids began to flutter

_We go together…dingo…feces…_

Australia awoke to a bright starry sky.

_What happened? Have I really been out cold this whole time? Wait…something's not right. I'm moving? _

Australia looked to his left and jumped as he realized that the ground was whooshing past him a thousand feet below. He was on a carpet. Australia pondered the sheer probability of passing out in dingo feces and waking up on a magic carpet. It was not looking good. The wind was whistling in his ears. It took him a while to realize that it wasn't the wind he was hearing. His heart leapt.

_Could it be?_

Australia slowly turned his head from the side of the carpet, and there she was. She was really there. Australia's heart soared, for sitting right next to him was none other than New Zealand. On a carpet. And she was singing. On a carpet. In the air. On a flying carpet. Australia couldn't quite wrap his head around the whole carpet business, but instinctively he knew that this was no time to be confused

"Unbelievable sky! Indescribable feeling.

Soaring, tumbling, free wheeling

Through an endless diamond sky

A whole new world"

New Zealand looked at him expectantly, but when he missed his cue and failed to answer, she went right along singing as if nothing had happened. Australia was crestfallen and became determined to do better next time.

"A hundred thousand things to see"

"Fuck land I'm on a carpet"

"I'm like a shooting star, I've come so far, I can't go back to where I used to be"

"What do I say?"

"Every turn a surprise"

"How did you make this damn thing fly?"

"Every moment red-letter"

As New Zealand continued to sing, Australia slipped back into his thoughts. He formed a plan after awkwardly belting out the last few lines of the duet. He was going to kiss her, tonight was the night. The song ended, and as the mysterious background music faded, he nonchalantly scooted to closer to where she sat.

Act cool, he thought as he leaned in. She was staring into his eyes dreamily. I can do this, I can…

The background music began to swell again. Australia paused.

_What could this mean?_

New Zealand threw her arms around him, sending Australia's testosterone levels to new heights.

_Was she really supposed to get that close? What does this enthusiasm mean? Does she like me? She likes me!_

Australia was so overcome with this realization that he was not prepared for the actual kiss. New Zealand quickly leaned in, throwing Australia's depth perception into a whorl of confusion. Australia slid back in shock. He clearly had not previously worked out the technicalities of snogging. Had his hormones not been raging, Australia probably would have grasped the relatively simple fact that sliding backwards on an airborne carpet was not the brightest of ideas.

Australia's face fell as he felt the floor disappear beneath him. He was filled with intense fear as he hurtled toward his inevitable destination. Australia did not know how far he was from the ground, but he was certainly not looking forward to his arrival. Fear turned to pain as he realized his failure as a male, and that pain was magnified as he saw New Zealand's smiling face lean over the carpet and wave.

Australia blacked out.

The first thing Australia noticed upon opening his eyes was the intense pain in the back of his skull.

The second thing Australia noticed was a horrible rancid smell.

The third thing Australia noticed was that he was lying in a large heap of fresh dingo excrement. The English language does not currently have enough expletives to exemplify the situation.

***

**DAY 1:**

Australia was pissed. Puzzled, but definitely pissed.

The previous day, after a long shower following the dingo shit incident, Australia had gone out and bought himself a box of Tim Tams to cheer himself up. He had placed the container of Tim Tams in the refrigerator so that he could eat them cold for breakfast.

_Mmm cold biscuits…delicious!_

But his hopes and dreams were crushed, as he found that the Tim Tams were no longer on the shelf. Australia stared bewildered at the place where the biscuits were supposed to be, eyeing them as if glaring would magically bring them back into existence.

_Grandpa! _Thought Australia angrily, _He knew these were mine and he went and ate them anyway!_ Australia was half way up the stairs, irritably muttering to himself, before he realized that Grandpa had stayed out late with his motorcycle gang and was still asleep. He couldn't have eaten them.

"CLOSE THE FRIDGE DOOR YOU NINNY"

Australia sighed. He trudged back to the fridge and slammed the door shut.

"Hey!" shouted the voice in the fridge, "don't be so rough! I'm a delicate freaking flower in here!" Australia grimaced and grabbed his keys, he needed more Tim Tams.

**Day 2:**

Australia was pissed. Puzzled, but definitely pissed.

This time, Australia had printed his name in large black letters on the container holding his Tim Tams. In addition, he had placed them in the fridge very late and had gotten up extra early to enjoy his treat. They were gone again. Obviously, a different approach was in order. He closed the door and walked away full of purpose.

"Hey you!" said the voice in the fridge. Australia tried desperately to ignore it, but the voice would not be silenced.

"I know something you don't know." Now Australia was annoyed, but also intrigued. He turned around and yanked open the fridge door.

"Watchya lookin' for hotshot?" said the pudding sarcastically, "ooh what happened to your poor breakfast?"

"Oh Albert, you're back from England how splendid! Though I thought for sure he would have eaten you. England's got a taste for disgusting foods."

"Careful fruitcake," said Albert menacingly, "You know what? If you're going to say such mean things then I just won't tell you what you want to know."

"Fine fine," said Australia, giving in. Getting his Tim Tams was more important than tormenting a magical bowl of pudding, albeit an obnoxious one. There were a few long moments of awkward silence.

"Well," Australia prodded.

"Not so fast," said the pudding quite smugly, "first you've got to eat me." Australia watched as Albert transformed into a macadamia nut pudding before his eyes.

"Look," said Albert cheerily, "I made myself just the way you like. Extra nuts!" Australia stared at the detestable pudding in disgust. Then he closed the fridge door and walked away. His dignity was worth more than a few Tim Tams. As Australia was marching off, he muttered under his breath "strawberry with frilly frosting." A cry of horror came from within the fridge and Australia laughed.

**Day 3: **

Australia had a plan. It was a hastily thrown together plan, but a plan nonetheless. He was stalking the refrigerator. The previous day he had gone out to the store, bought twice as many Tim Tams than usual. He hurried home, poured the Tim Tams into the container, wrote his name upon it in large shiny letters, and placed it in the fridge. Australia then proceeded to hide under the table with a pair of unnecessary binoculars, waiting, until finally, as the sun was just about to rise, something stirred in the kitchen. Australia shook himself awake as the fridge creaked open.

"AHA!" Australia yelled triumphantly, hitting his head on the table as he scrambled towards the thief. The figure ran out of the kitchen door, Tim Tams in hand…no, in paw.

"Weren't you satisfied with the damn baby?" Australia shouted after his stolen biscuits.

_Goddamn Dingoes. _

_***_

Australia was sitting in the kitchen, happily munching on his usual breakfast of cornflakes and toast smeared with vegemite. He listened as the sound of Grandpa's motorcycle faded into the distance. The farther and farther away the sound became, the happier Australia was. His attention was drawn away from the vegemite, which was beginning to make his breath smell slightly disgusting, by the sound of footsteps tentatively stepping down the stairs. His brow furrowed in confusion….did Grandpa not just leave? Was he playing a trick? Did he slip something into Australia's cornflakes?

Australia eyed his cereal, overcome with intense paranoia. He shuddered at the awful memory of the illegal substance grandpa had slipped in to his tea the year before. Suddenly, Australia had the feeling he was no longer alone in the kitchen. He cautiously looked up. She wasn't much older than he was, and she was calmly looking around the room.

"Have you seen Abe?" she asked when her eyes finally fell on Australia. It was then that Australia had an epiphany.

_I am having the greatest coma ever…possibly from the recreational drugs that I have unwillingly consumed. There are cornflakes, grandpa's gone, and there is a random hot chick, wearing practically nothing, standing before me in my kitchen. _

"Excuse me," the girl asked a bit more forcefully, "where is Abe?"

His lips cracked into a smile as he inconspicuously eyed her chest through her almost translucent clothing, how could he help it? He consented that he probably could help admiring her great ass but…

He shook his head, realizing that he was staring.

"Are you looking for my Grandfather?" he said a bit disappointedly. The girl smiled widely.

"Abe has a grandson! He's so accomplished!" A dreamy look crossed her features. Australia was confused, but decided to continue the conversation.

"You know its funny," he said, "I didn't hear you come in the front door just now."

"That's because I spent the night here," She took the empty seat opposite Australia and helped herself to some cornflakes.

"But, we don't have a guestroom…" Australia stopped short, a sickening mental picture forming in his mind. _Ew. _

_"_So," Australia began gingerly, hoping his messed up thinking was just an after effect of the drugs, "Who exactly are you?"

"Fiji," said the older girl, "You know it's funny, Abe never mentioned a grandson last night." A mischievous smile played across her lips.

A look of blatant shock crossed his face as his disturbing mental image became reality. He blinked a few times, and then took what he hoped would be a deep, cleansing breath. Oxygen and cornflakes shot down Australia's windpipe. Fiji looked on calmly as Australia doubled over, clutching his throat.

Fiji drained her bowl of left over milk and placed it in the sink. She walked over to Australia's heaving frame. She took her time bending over and slapped Australia on the back with her palm. Australia cried out as the partially dissolved corn flake was jettisoned across the room. Exhausted, Australia collapsed on the floor.

Without looking back, Fiji walked up the stairs, leaving Australia sprawled out on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. At that exact moment, Australia heard the kitchen door open. Grandpa's face came into view, peering down at Australia and snickering.

Australia felt a pain in his side as Grandpa gave him a hearty kick.

"Oh crap, you're still alive." He then proceeded to walk up the stairs.

Australia felt acutely as if a bit of his soul had been torn out.


	4. Chapter 4

Abe peered out his window. There were two men on his lawn. One was kind of weedy looking; the other had a bad haircut. He didn't know what they were doing there, but it didn't bother him. If they began to stomp on his eucalyptus saplings, he could simply beat the crap out of them. That usually worked for the others. The two appeared to be arguing, Abe watched, slightly interested.

The one with the bad haircut, the blond one, was clearly upset. He was doing most of the talking, complete with the angry hand motions. The weedy one, also blond, he was younger, Abe decided. That one obviously couldn't get a word in edgewise. Of course, some of that was probably due to the cigarette he carried in his mouth. Abe froze, angered. He had no problem with smoking, but the damn fruitcake, who was apparently no longer complacent with just listening to the other man, had just flicked his cigarette butt onto the eucalyptus patch. The younger one began gesturing angrily as well, and Abe decided he had had enough of this.

He grabbed his boomerang of choice, and marched outside to beat the trespassers. As Abe advanced, he began to hear bits and pieces of the argument. "…completely irresponsible!" he heard the older one cry, "enough…due punishment…"

"Fuck you!" yelled the younger one, who, Abe noticed, was not simply weedy but also had the voice of one who had just recently finished puberty. Abe was not happy, not happy at all.

"You've got two seconds to explain what you're doing here," Abe growled. The older one jumped, visibly surprised. The younger one rolled his eyes, and sulked. Abe knew he would enjoy scaring these people.

"Oh, sorry, thought this place was deserted," the older one mused, recovering quickly.

"Do you not see my house right there?" Abe sneered. The man stared at it, his head slightly tilted, studying the ramshackle hut, built with an assortment of plants, rocks, and wombat bones. Abe had probably been high when he built it, but it kept out the rain.

The man exhaled slowly. "My name is England," he continued, "I am hereby formally claiming your house and everything in it. This is my younger brother..."

"Wait," Abe interjected, "Who the hell do you think you are coming in here and giving me orders?"

The man rolled his eyes dramatically, "Look," he said, "you've been pretty privileged to have gone on autonomously for so long. France is not far behind, so if I don't take your land, he probably will." England grimaced as he thought of France, who, fortunately, had gotten sidetracked on his way here by the pretty sea shells and the sexy women.

Abe had had enough. He began to turn away, intending to ignore the smarmy blond man and the kid until they went away.

"Don't move," he heard England say.

Abe turned back to see England pointing a gun at his head. It glinted cruelly in the sun.

"It is very unwise to ignore me sir. You will host my younger brother as I see fit. His name is Australia, he is your grandson. Say yes if you understand me." A tense silence followed for only a few moments, during which an unphased Australia proceeded to light another cigarette.

Abe sighed. His boomerang, although awesome, was no match for a gun. He knew he should have upgraded it years ago.

"Fine."

"Jolly good then. Alright Australia, this is goodbye. Maybe you'll learn something out here."

England extended his hand, expecting Australia to shake it. Australia removed the cigarette from his mouth and placed the burning end squarely in England's open palm.

"Bloody Hell!" England screamed in a rather undignified high pitched falsetto. Australia laughed, and Abe tried to suppress a chuckle.

England fixed Australia with what he thought to be a withering stare. Then he turned his heels and stalked arrogantly into the distance. Abe absently wondered if he could hit England with a rock that far, but decided against it. He instead turned to Australia, apparently his grandson, who was crouching in the grass, intently setting it on fire with a lighter. Abe walked over to the small flames and stamped them out with his bare foot. With one swift motion, he kicked Australia's lighter into oblivion and pulled the young man up by the collar of his leather jacket. Abe gave him a once over. There was no way this kid was his grandson, Abe would never be caught dead in such a crappy leather jacket.

* * *

A.N.

G'day Mates. Brigadier General Here. L.T. and I are very sorry for taking so long.

We are proud of this particular chapter because everything in it is (generally) historically accurate. Australia was created as a penal colony for British Convicts. Britain and France were more or less racing to claim it, but Britain ultimately won because the captain of the French ships were more occupied with collecting interesting Australian shells than with actually forming colonies. We hope you enjoyed it.

Lieutenant General would like to say that she is excited to know that actual Australians read this story. That was unexpected.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Brigadier General here. You know, all this fighting on behalf of becky world domination makes our troops quite disheartened. And the thing that would cheer them up most is reviews from you :)

Lieutenant General would like to say that chocolate works just as well.

* * *

"…Latvia, a strong friend of mine, wanted to punch Sealand in the nose, but Sealand was wearing glasses, and you can't hit a person with glasses as often as you'd like, but he also wanted to kick Czech Republic and luckily the Czech Republic didn't have glasses but then Sealand started to cry and yell about how nobody liked him and how he wanted to die and then England had to console him and told Latvia that he had to write "I will not hit a friend who has glasses" 100 times on the board and then I woke up."

Australia lifted his head off his knees groggily. Taz looked at him expectantly.

"Well…?"

"Well what?"

"Didn't you like it? Let me tell you about another dream I had, it was about pomegranates and jelly beans."

"Taz," Australia interrupted, thinking quickly, "Want to see something interesting?"

"Is it more interesting than pomegranates and jelly beans?"

"Well, of course. Um...have I ever shown you my tattoo?"

Taz's eyes widened in amazement.

"No!" he cried a bit too loudly. ""

"Alright"

"…eshowmeshowmeshowmeshowme"

Australia rolled his eyes and pulled up his sleeve.

"Wicked!" Taz exclaimed, "that's so cool! I want one! Can you give me one? How do you get a tattoo Australia?"

"uh…"

"Wait! I know just where to get one! I'll be back!" Taz got up and raced away before Australia even had the chance to look confused. _Oh well, I guess I'll just sit here and hope he doesn't take any candy from strangers in white vans..._ Australia leaned back in the grass and took a sip of pink lemonade. Delicious.

Australia blinked, something was blocking his sun. He cracked his eyes open, to see Taz leering over him, quite creepily. Taz was grinning from ear to ear, but Australia could tell that something was off. Taz looked…discolored. Australia skirted back because his first thought was leprosy…stupid childsnatchers…but then he realized that leprosy wasn't pink…nor did it sparkle. He sat up, and laughed hysterically as Taz looked on enthusiastically.

"See, I knew you'd like it," said Taz. "It's not as intimidating as yours, but this is all the store had, I really wanted a robot or a dinosaur, but New Zealand, she's the one that brought me to the store, really really wanted this kind."

Australia stared at Taz for a few moments, taking in the sparkling unicorn printed upon his face.

"Taz," Australia began sincerely, "I like it too."

"I'm glad you do," New Zealand said.

"Yeah it's really ni…" Australia stopped mid sentence. New Zealand helped herself to some pink lemonade.

"Yeah," she continued, as Taz ran off to show his new 'ink' to the nearby baby wallaby. "You know they really did have a dinosaur, but I thought this was much cuter. Besides, the pink ink seemed like it would be easier to wash off."

"um…" Australia was struggling with the whole coherent thought process. New Zealand was unphased.

"Do you want one?" She chirped excitedly. "There was an extra in the pack but Jemaine doesn't want it because Bret told him it would make him look homosexual…"

Australia would later wonder, as he washed the sparkly unicorn off his face, exactly what had transpired after New Zealand had arrived.

***

Australia lowered his binoculars and took a bite of kangaroo jerky. There had been no movement outside of New Zealand's house for several hours and he was starting to get worried. At this rate, his fantasy of saving New Zealand from an untimely death by a pick axe wielding murderer sporting a scarred right cheek and a penchant for long walks in the park and foreign films would never come to fruition. How disappointing.

Australia sighed and raised the binoculars again. New Zealand's house seemed to sparkle in the sunlight with the added benefits of not having any obsessive preteen fangirls.

*SQUACK*

The sudden noise jarred Australia out of his intense stalking reverie. He threw his sandwich at the obnoxious kookaburra, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the bird's downfall. That is, until he realized that he had unwittingly launched his vegemite sandwich off the side of Ayer's Rock. Crap. He looked over the edge only to see his poor sandwich lying pathetically on the ground near the azalea bush. Australia sighed and pried open his bedroom window with his foot, carefully climbing into his room. Australia grumbled. England must have been high when he designed the house. Who in his right mind would ever build a house around a giant fucking rock?

***


	6. Chapter 6

Australia felt ridiculous. Clearly, wool was not his fabric. It was itchy…it was very itchy. He had simply wanted to see what brand of toaster that New Zealand had in her kitchen and maybe even her preference of spatula, but even he had to admit that this was going a bit too far. He peered through his binoculars and scowled. The damn sheep were getting in the way again. It was sheep mating season, and two male sheep had come on to him so far. It was actually pretty creepy, but he was pleased that his sheep costume had worked so well. New Zealand would suspect nothing.

He took a step about five centimeters closer to New Zealand's house. It was a nice house; her curtains were decorated with fluffy dancing kiwis. He imagined what it was like to be a fluffy dancing kiwi; it was undoubtedly better than being a sheep. As he was daydreaming about flapping his adorable little kiwi wings, another ram began to nuzzle him suggestively. Australia had had enough of this. He would just sneak in through New Zealand's window at a later time. Full of purpose, he turned to go.

"Oh hi Australia" a ewe next to him chirped.

"Oh hey…wait…what?" Australia stammered as he turned around and saw New Zealand peering at him through her wool covered binoculars. Australia felt extreme jealousy as he realized that her sheep costume was better made than his. She obviously used better quality hot glue than he had.

"Isn't sheep watching awesome?" New Zealand enthused.

"Oh…sheep watching…yes"

"You know Australia," said New Zealand, staring dreamily into space, "Sheep are just like clouds with legs."

* * *

"G'day mates! The names Steve Irwin and I'm the Crocodile Hunter!"

"_G'day mates! The name's Australia and I'm a…Crocodile Hunter…" _

"Today we're going to catch a crocodile!"

"_Today we're going to catch a…this shit is stupid" _

Australia sat back on the old floral couch and scowled. England had told him to learn to be a proper Australian, and had even lent him some videos of this Australian dipshit that engaged in shockingly stupid activities that were sure to get him killed.

"Crikey!"

"_Cri…what the hell? Who even comes up with stuff like this?"_

England had only recently built the house, and installing the television was one of the first thing he did. But the bastard wouldn't give Australia cable…just an old VCR and videos of whatever this was. Christ this guy was annoying.

"I just burned your leather jacket in the garage. That piece of crap was starting to smell. And is there a point to that thing anyway? Do I really look like some pansy that drives a car?" the old man scoffed. "Oh and here's a question for you hot shot, why would that whiny faerie boy put the garage on top of the giant rock?"

"He said it gave the house atmosphere" Australia retorted.

"Fuck atmosphere," said the old man, "why are you watching that shit in my house?"

Suddenly, Australia felt very territorial of his television. It may have been shitty, but it was _his _shitty television and _his _annoying crocodile whatsit.

"That man is going to get killed by a stingray one day mark my words"

"No you idiot," Australia rolled his eyes, "He's a _crocodile _hunter. If he's going to get killed by anything…"

"Don't argue with me fruitcake, the land speaks to me"

_That old man and his drugs_. Australia rolled his eyes again. The old man simply shrugged. He went over to the telly and ripped it out of the wall with a swift motion. The image of the crocodile man shut off instantly.

"What? What are you doing?" Australia cried, "I was watching that!"

The old man did not bother replying. He effortlessly carried the television out of the room and began to ascend the stairs leading to the garage. Australia got up to follow him, complaining incessantly.

The old man pressed a button in the wall, and the garage doors slowly rose dramatically, revealing the steep edge of the giant rock. The sunlight glinted on the blank screen of the telly as the old man hoisted it over his head and chucked it over the side of Uluru. The old man walked back inside, leaving Australia gaping at the mangled corpse of the telly, feeling close to tears.

* * *

AN: g'day readers. Brigadier General here. L.T. and I have come up with an interesting idea. In the Hetalia world, Nations are not only called by their country name but by human names as well. We have realized that we have neglected to "name" poor Australia or New Zealand. We have thought about it, and every name we come up with just sounds dumb so we're going to ask you guys. If you have an idea for a name for either of them, drop a review or a message and tell us.

Lieutenant General wonders if it is too soon to joke about Steve Irwin. Oh well, too late.


End file.
